


Of Issues and Calming Draughts

by MarauderChaos



Series: Red and Green Ties Intertwined [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, F/F, F/M, Harry Potter & Ron Weasley Friendship, Harry Potter Has Issues, M/M, Mentions of Claustrophobia, Mentor Severus Snape, Panic Attacks, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Severus Snape Has a Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-07 12:36:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21458164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarauderChaos/pseuds/MarauderChaos
Summary: 4th YearSeverus learns something new things about his charge that he didn’t know, and Harry realises that’s not always a bad thing.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley
Series: Red and Green Ties Intertwined [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1524923
Comments: 8
Kudos: 188





	Of Issues and Calming Draughts

**Author's Note:**

> All Rights go to Jk Rowling
> 
> Just want to say, I don’t have personal experience with Panic Attacks and Anxiety though I know a couple of people who do, so most of this is my imagination. I don’t mean to offend anyone or anything. 
> 
> Also sorry if this chapter isn’t up to usual standard, it was sort of a burst of inspiration and I had to get it out.

“How’d you do it?”

Harry paused, ripping the banner from his head and tossing it behind him, anger, adrenaline anxiety building up. Ron sat, eerily calm, sprawled out on his bed, blue eyes glittering with something he couldn’t quite identify.

“Do what?”

His tone was off, Harry noticed instantly, and scanned the room, half expecting a mass murderer to leap out. Well, it wouldn’t be Pettigrew he was in Azkaban, and as far as Harry knew Sirius was preparing for his trial with Professor Lup- Remus. He felt odd calling his former professor by his first name, but then he’d somehow seen more of the werewolf outside of Hogwarts that he had all last year.

“Put your name in? You can tell me, it’s not like I’m going to go running to Skeeter”

A short, odd laugh followed that, and Harry felt and blanket of dread wash over him.

“I didn’t put my name in Ron, believe me, even if I had found a way and I wouldn’t do it. We do things together, one for all and all that”

Whatever speech his best friend had been mentally preparing fell short, dying on his lips, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Mad Eye said..” Harry began, turning his back as he changed out of his robes, to hide the shaking in his hands “He said it’s probably some plot to get me killed.”

Ron sat up, biting his lips, a silent internal struggle taking place. A small part of him was raging with jealousy, wishing it was him  just once.  He was the youngest male, so never had anything new, he was part of a family who were considered Blood Traitors so never had any respect and everyone expected him to do as well as his brothers, but he couldn’t, he was just Ron.

But Harry knew that, Harry -  HIS  best friend, not Fred’s, not Charlie’s, not Bill’s. Harry whose home life was horrible yet rarely complained, Harry who didn’t give a damn whether he had lots of money or not, who didn’t care about his surname or blood status, who would do anything and everything in his power to protect those he loved. Harry, who made him feel wanted.

Harry who probably knew he was thinking all of this.

“Mate I-“

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t blame you.” So Ron was right, he did know. His blue eyes narrowed as Harry have a dismissive wave, catching the soft shake and the tense muscles. He took a breath and stood, swallowing both his pride and his guilt, before gently resting a hand on his lower back.

Harry clenched the wooden frame of the bed, Adam’s apple bobbing slowly as he squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel it mounting, the rising anxiety and fear bubbling up in his chest- No! No he was better than this, he wasn’t weak and he certainly wasn’t about to breakdown on his best friend, even as a warm, firm hand rested on his back. He cleared his throat and straightened, painfully pushing down his feelings, but didn’t bother trying to smile as he turned to face him.

“Just.. just stick by me yeah?”

Ron nodded silently, moving his hand up to the smaller boys shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. Music continued to blare down below,it it was ignored by the two boys as they made refuge on Harry’s bed, flopping down and pulling the curtains shut.

“Are you going to talk to Snape?”

Harry shrugged, eyes fluttering shut, relaxing on to the warm sheets, Ron lounged beside him.

“He probably wants to know how you feel”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips and he opened his eyes, staring up at his friends.

“Nah, he probably thinks I did put it in”

Ron frowned slightly and raised himself up on to his elbow, quirking an eyebrow.

“Why d’you think that?”

“Same reason you did” They both winced, and he copied Ron, raising himself up to meet blue eyes.

“Listen, Ron. Your my best friend, my brother, and I would never do anything without you, we are in this together.”

Harry spoke sincerely, reaching over and clasping the back of Ron’s neck, their foreheads dipping forwards until they connected softly, eyes closing and left in a comfortable quiet moment, their bond growing stronger.

He could feel the tears as they fell from Ron’s cheeks, body shaking with suppressed sobs of all his insecurities flowing out. Harry pulled back slightly, and Ron hastily reached up to rub his eyes, starting to roll away, cheeks burning with embarrassment, but soft hands pulled him back, and his found himself wrapped in a tight hug, face pressed into Harry’s chest and own arms curling automatically back.

They lay their, limbs intertwined, simply enjoying the others company’s and the comfort it brought. Ron sniffed and used his sleeve to wipe his eyes, shifting so they were side by side.

“I...I needed that”  Thank you for believing in me.  Harry nodded calmly, not labouring the point and Ron smiled slightly. That’s what he both loved and hated about his best friend; he always knew when something was wrong and was always willing to help. He didn’t keep pressing the point, he simply helped others deal with it and that meant nobody ever felt awkward.The problem was, he was terrible at dealing with his own problems, he dismissed them or pushed them aside.

Harry closed his eyes, relaxing back, their shoulders touching and their chests rising and falling in time. Everything he said to Ron was true, he did indeed think of him as a brother and his heart ached every time Ron thought he wasn’t wanted. If he was being honest, Harry had expected it, the disbelief and to an extent the insecurities coming through even if he didn’t say them out loud. He was just glad they had gotten it out in the open before it turned into an argument they couldn’t come back from.

With a contented sigh slipping from between his lips, he allowed the darkness to consume him, letting the worry wound deep in his mind to disappear for a few hours. 

It was coming, he could feel it coming, but he managed to push it down, he adapted to each situation and found a way to keep it at bay.

“Shut up Potter, nobody wants you” An older Slytherin sneered in the hallway, effectively interrupting the oncoming argument between himself and Draco, who had began their usual exchange of insults.

A chorus of laughs emitting from the surrounding students, and Harry swallowed the lump in his throat, choosing to ignore the boy. Ron made a remark that he didn’t catch as he made his way through a crowd of students, wincing as they knocked against him and attempted to trip him. After years of dodging both male Dursley’s he had become quite adapt at avoiding things he couldn’t see or expect, and so easily guided himself out of the crowd and into the bathroom.

He ran a hand through his hair, clenching his jaw tightly. He seemed to rock on the balls of his feet, whispering to himself and taking purposeful deep breaths. He closed his eyes, kneading his forehead with his knuckles with agitated movements, starting to pace the room.

“Come here” He jerked as Ron’s voice floated behind him, but didn’t hesitate, stepping into the warm embrace and pressing his face into his shoulder, momentarily blocking out the world long enough to regain control.

“Shit” It was a similar situation, with a small difference. “Dragons” He continued to walk in circles around the perimeter of the room, he was alone, it was three in the morning and everyone else was asleep, but he could see their flames everywhere, pouring across the room, never reaching him. He could hear their roars, and the cries of the handlers echoing in his ears, the shaking in his limbs never quite ceasing.  “Dragons. Are they mad? They expect me to fight a dragon?!” 

He could feel it steadily rising, as his voice cracked and another jolt of panic ran through his mind, racing against his nerves. A whimper passed through his lips, as it registered in his mind what was happening and he lowered himself into an armchair, rubbing a shaking hand over his face.

“Don’t be weak.” 

“Don’t be weak”

“Don’t be weak”

He repeated over and over again, until the panic sizzled and drained back under his mental iron chains, leaving him staring into the fireplace blankly, feeling almost empty.

Each time was worse, each time was harder to repel but easier to contain. Sometimes he found the subtle ones, the ones that didn’t involve much were harder to keep at bay. 

“So Harry, can I call you Harry?”

Rita Skeeter smiled at him, showing all her teeth, her quill posed and ready. Harry was sure if that had a face it would be smiling as well. It wasn’t however, a nice smile, it was one that you see adults give to children when they’ve done something right, but it was so easy and you took so long to do it that they just want to bang their heads against the wall. 

“I guess” he shrugged awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the creeping anxiety start up. This time however, he was very aware of the close quarters they were in, and resisted the urge to put his hands out and touch the walls, just to make sure they weren’t moving. Instead he slipped his hands inside his robe pockets and began absently fiddling with a pebble. It was sort of thin, and mostly rounded and smooth, rubbing his thumb up and down over the ridges, mentally trying to find the uneven parts. 

“How did you get your name in to the Goblet?”

“I-I didn’t” 

He silently cursed the stutter in his voice and his palms began to sweat slightly. She just continued to smile at him as though he were a five year old and her quill began to scribble too fast for him to read. 

“How do you feel about Cedric Diggory?”

That threw him off for a moment, and he almost choked on air before regaining composure. 

“He’s the Hogwarts Champion, not to mention a brilliant Quidditch Player. He beat me last year to the snitch and then tried to call for a rematch, he’s one of the nicest, loyal people I know”

It appeared she wasn’t expecting that answer, and he finished on a pathetic shrug, biting the inside of his cheek nervously. His eyes flickered to the pad, where her quill had stilled, and attempted to read the writing. 

“Ignore the Quill Harry. Now, what do you think your parents would say? Do you think they would be proud?” 

He often wondered this, every time he survived something crazy or made a decision, whether right or wrong, and he never really came to a conclusion. After all, he’d never met his parents, all he remembered were their last moments on earth. He had been to,d his father was arrogant, mischievous and always pranking people, he also knew his father was a bully back in school, and Harry hated bully’s. He had learnt his mum was gifted in Potions and rejected James for at least six years and stood up in defence of others. He was nothing like his parents. For one, he was almost sorted into Slytherin, and two, he was particularly gifted in anything other than Defence or Quidditch. 

So would they be proud of him? He seriously doubted that. 

He opened his mouth to reply, but she simply fired another question. 

“Did you use Dark Magic to cheat your name in?”

“No! I didn’t put my-“

“Do you care what the other children are saying?”

“Uh I-“

“What’s it like to be famous?”

“Really crap-“

“Can you remember your parents at all?”

His hand clenched tightly over the pebble, a barrage of questions he wasn’t given the chance to answer and he could see that bloody Quill still taking notes. His thumb rubbed across the pebble, trying to calm himself. He mentally began counting back from one hundred, like a mother might do if she was trying not to loose her patience.

His foot bounced lightly on the floor, agitation settling into his movements, something Skeeter either didn’t notice or ignored as she continued her list of questions, not really caring if he actually answered. He ducked his head, biting down on his tongue and focusing on the pebble, blocking the rest of it out and just letting the motion start to calm him. He began at pattern, of rubbing over the pebble three consecutive times before flipping it over and doing it again, a rhythm to match to. 

Light burst through their vision, and Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. Harry exhaled slightly and climbed out of the Cupboard after Rita, glancing back. For a moment he could’ve sworn he saw the shadow of a small figure, with round broken glasses and black hair curled up on a mattress, and then it was gone, somehow leaving him feeling more exposed than ever.   
  


He didn’t tell Severus about any of this. He made sure nobody noticed and he didn’t complain. He could deal with it. He didn’t need anyone’s help, and he didn’t want Severus to think he had more issues, they both knew he had nightmares and they were both pretty broken inside in different ways, he didn’t want his Guardian to think he made more issues. 

_ What if Severus didn’t want him? _


End file.
